


Pink Line

by charivari



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Auras, Conjunx Endura, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Meeting, Mopey old man Megs, Reflection, Roddy Megs snark, Rodimus' typical unprofessionalism, Spoilers for issue #42, relationship analysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 03:39:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4731500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thunder Clash’s ability to see auras causes Rodimus and Magnus to question the nature of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Line

**Author's Note:**

> Fits with Ultra Magnus Drabbles... But it was slightly too big for a drabble so I posted it as a stand alone.

“Okay Thunders,” Rodimus said, “Now you’re up and running, after I personally saved you from those barnacle thingies, no need to thank me…”

He let the words hang deliberately in the air.

“I insist,” Thunder Clash said, “My sparkfelt gratitude. And may I also say…”

Rodimus held up a palm,

“Nuh uh uh, not finished,” he said, causing Magnus to blanch at his rudeness, “I know you’re the guy with the ‘visions’. But this isn’t the _Vis Vitalis_. This is my ship. You’re under my command.”

“Our command,” Megatron corrected.

Rodimus sighed,

“Our command,” he conceded, “Bottom line, Thunders, you answer to us.”

“Understood,” Thunder Clash said humbly, “I have every intention of following the chain of command.”

“Excellent,” Megatron said, “Now that we’ve unnecessarily clarified the obvious…”

He paused to glance meaningfully at Rodimus. A look that clearly stated ‘you’ve wasted seconds of my life with your posturing, I’m not getting them back, you better shut up for the rest of this meeting’. Magnus had noticed Megatron could communicate a lot with his glares.

Not that they had much of an effect on cowing Rodimus. He shot him a look that was both insolent and devoid of apology.

Magnus was grateful Megatron chose not to call him out on it. Instead he looked away. Magnus might have dubbed it solely professional behavior. But he knew as well as Megatron that Rodimus hated being ignored.

As much as he hated Megatron taking the lead, which he did, in a firm but far less aggressive manner than Rodimus.

“Let’s move onto the task at hand,” he said, indicating Thunder Clash, “Your vis…”

“One more thing,” Rodimus interrupted, “No hugging Magnus.”

Magnus jolted with surprise at the sound of his designation. Once he had properly processed what Rodimus had said, he flinched.

He was obviously referring to the time he had hugged Thunder Clash. Something Magnus had tried rather hard to forget ever happened out of embarrassment.

“Rodimus,” he protested lowly.

But he was drowned out by Rodimus himself, the Captain’s gaze fixed on Thunder Clash.

“I mean it Thunders,” he was saying, “No invading Magnus’ personal space like you did last time.”

Thunder Clash frowned,

“Forgive me,” he said, “But if I recall correctly, Ultra Magnus initiated the embrace.”

“Because you bamboozled him with flattery,” Rodimus argued.

“I was not bamboozled,” Magnus spoke up more firmly, embarrassment giving way to indignation, “It… It was a brief lapse of bodily control.”

He forced himself to make optic contact with Thunder Clash.

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

It was something he hadn’t had the courage to say after the incident.

“Oh not at all,” Thunder Clash insisted, “I was very flattered by your reaction.”

He shot Magnus a reassuring smile.

“See this is what I mean,” Rodimus stabbed a finger at Thunder Clash, “Your sweet as engex politeness, it muddles his processor.”

“It does not…” Magnus began to protest.

“Mags I got this,” Rodimus cut over him, “He’s off limits Thunders. By all means, have at Megs. Primus knows his self-esteem could use a boost. He’s been so down in the dumps lately.”

The words wiped the bemused look off Megatron’s face.

“Shut up Rodimus.”

“If I might be so bold,” Thunder Clash said, “He does have a point.”

Megatron fixed the large mech with a dangerous stare,

“Excuse me?”  

“I mean no disrespect,” Thunder Clash said with a slight bow of his helm, “But I have noticed your aura is out of balance. Perhaps I could be of assistance in re-aligning it.”

Rodimus sniggered,

“How about it Megs?” he said in a suggestive tone, “Want him to re-align your aura?”

“I believe I told you to shut up,” Megatron responded, optics still on Thunder Clash, “That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

His politeness carried an undercurrent of menace. Thunder Clash didn’t seem the type to be easily intimidated. But he was the type to respectfully acquiesce.

“Very well,” he said, “I apologize if my offer was too forward.”

He turned to Rodimus,

“I also wish to apologize to you and Ultra Magnus.”

“You...” Rodimus trailed off in confusion, “Huh?”

“For causing you to feel threatened. Due to the negative energy in the room it took me a while to perceive the true nature of your relationship.”

“What are you talking about?” Rodimus spoke the words running through Magnus’ processor.

Thunder Clash smiled warmly,

“You are conjunx endura.”

The resulting silence was thunderous. Rodimus seemed just as lost for words as Magnus.

A look of puzzlement settled over Thunder Clash’s faceplates.

“Or am I mistaken?” he said, “There is pink energy connecting between you. That usually signifies the presence of a conjunx bond.”

“Energy?” Magnus echoed.

“Pink?” Rodimus protested, much to Magnus’ vexation.

Given what Thunder Clash was implying, color was least pressing matter.

“Pink signifies love,” the hero explained, “It can also signify friendship but it’s usually more coral. Your energy bond is pale pink. Which is what lead me to my original conclusion.”

“I… Uh… Well…” Rodimus seemed to grasp for words before he latched onto a train of thought, “Frankly Thunders, even if I did believe in you seeing this kinda stuff, it still wouldn't be much of your business.”

It wasn't the most polite of answers. But for once Magnus didn't raise his voice in protest of the fact.

Thunder Clash had opened up a can of worms. But it was a discussion for Rodimus and himself. Not anyone else.

Thunder Clash bowed to their right to privacy.

"Understood," he said respectfully.

Megatron didn't press the issue either.

“Your visions,” he prompted, diverting the conversation back to it's original premise.

Magnus did his best to listen. But his processor was on an entirely different matter. Judging by his unusual silence, so was Rodimus’.

It was fortunate Magnus’ office had been the one chosen to host the meeting. Once it was adjourned the two only had to remain in place while Megatron and Thunder Clash made their exit.

“Are we?” Magnus asked softly.

Rodimus was pensive, fingers lightly drumming the table.

“We’ve been exclusive for a while Mags,” he said finally, quietly, “If it was any other couple, that’s what you’d call it.”

The thought had never crossed Magnus’ processor. He equated conjunx endura with his brother and Rewind. It was something he had never associated with himself and Rodimus. He wasn't sure why, it definitely wasn't from a lack of affection on Rodimus' part. Both in private and in public, though his hugs at Swerve's were usually more playful teasing or the result of being overcharged.

It occurred that Magnus had never hugged Rodimus in front of everyone, not like he had Thunder Clash.

The thought now made him feel guilty. Perhaps Rodimus’ behavior towards Thunder Clash had been justified, seeing that Magnus had given him something he had never given Rodimus.

He hadn’t even spoken those three words either. Those three extremely significant words.

“But we haven’t even… I haven’t even said I l… I l...”

The word wouldn’t come out. It wasn’t the same as the f-word he couldn’t bring himself to say. The f-word didn’t compute with his way of thinking. But the l-word. That was different. He understood, he felt it.

He feared it.

Feared Rodimus not saying it back. Feared Rodimus saying it back and not meaning it. Feared Rodimus deciding he wasn’t enough.

And in the midst of the fear, Tyrest’s voice, full of contempt, “Fully deserved.”

That was why the word caught in his vocaliser, no matter how hard he tried to force it out.

He felt Rodimus’ hand on his arm.

“Okay, okay, don’t give yourself an aneurysm,” he said, “You don’t need to say it Magnus. Not until you’re ready.”

The words were intended to comfort him. But Magnus felt ashamed.

“But…” he started to say.

“I know,” Rodimus cut over him, “That’s enough.”

Magnus was struck by the assuredness in his tone.

“We’re not ordinary mecha Mags,” he went on, “We don’t have to fit the stereotype of what a typical conjunx relationship is. We have what we have and it works, at least I think it does. You’re happy right?”

Magnus was reminded of the time Rewind had asked him that question for his video.

_“Define happy.”_

Back then he hadn’t been happy. Fixated on every single rule, determined to enforce them, thinking that if he could have the ship and its crew functioning in complete abidance with the law it would bring him happiness, or at least a sense of accomplishment and peace of mind. An unobtainable goal, all it had bought him was isolation, an overwhelming sense of futility, discontent.

Then the events of Luna 1 had occurred, his perspective had been changed. The law was still a priority to him, especially in ensuring the safety of the crew. But it was no longer a single-minded obsession. He had learned to be more selective in applying regulation to some matters. His relationship with Rodimus for instance. Prior to Luna 1, he had rebuffed Rodimus’ advances, citing rules against fraternization and professional conduct. Rodimus had laughed it off and simply continued trying.

It had been one of the reasons Magnus had considered him unfit for duty.

Obsessed with interface and conduct unbefitting a commanding officer.

What had made matters worse was Magnus’ own niggling sense of curiosity. A part of him that had wanted to give into Rodimus’ flirtations.

Another reason why he had offered him up to Tyrest. Rodimus had posed a dangerous temptation to everything Magnus stood for. The law, professionalism, celibacy.

Then his guise had been uncovered. The legend of Ultra Magnus had been shattered. Magnus had returned to the Lost Light not as his former persona, but Minimus Ambus inside his Armor. Appropriate he supposed. It was new start. For both himself and Rodimus.

Rodimus had quickly fallen back into his old pattern of behavior. But Magnus had come to realize it was a protective shell, a means to disguise his vulnerability from the rest of the crew. The same reason Minimus still clung to the Magnus Armor.

He still remembered the words Rodimus had spoken on Luna 1. Honest, regretful, wanting to live to make amends. That was the real Rodimus, laid bare in front of Magnus’ optics.

It was the same Rodimus who pressed against him for the first time since Luna 1, pleading for Magnus to return his touch. And Magnus had, not knowing that this one occasion of consent would lead to another and another until he lost count. Lost count of how many times they had interfaced, lost count of how many times Rodimus recharged in his quarters, a habit that suddenly turned more or less permanent. Lost count of smiles, touches, whispers.

He supposed estimating the quantity didn’t matter in the long run. It was more the feeling that he wanted it to continue, that he wanted Rodimus around him in spite of his deep-seated attachment to privacy.

And that was the crux of it. Being with Rodimus made him happy.

He liked him pawing at him though he admonished him out of propriety.

He liked Rodimus cooing over his small stature, never making him feel inferior for being so… tiny.

He liked that Rodimus, for all the impertinence and lack of tact he displayed towards most things, knew the right thing to say when he needed it the most.

Like he had just now. When Magnus hadn’t been able to say the l-word.

Confirmation came more easily from his vocaliser.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Good,” Rodimus leaned up and smacked a kiss to Magnus’ cheek, “That settles it.”

He sighed as he settled back in his seat,

“But this whole pink energy business, that’s a load of slag. I mean seriously. If our bond was gonna be any kind of color it wouldn’t be pink.”

“What would it be then?” Magnus asked.

“I dunno. A cool color. Like orange. You like orange?”

“I like it on you,” Magnus surprised himself by how mildly flirtatious that sounded.

Rodimus grinned,

“I like me with you.”

Inside the Magnus Armor Minimus felt his spark lurch in its housing.

“As do I.”

It wasn’t ‘I love you’. But to both of them, it was enough.


End file.
